


Bet on It

by zetuslapetus



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27564880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetuslapetus/pseuds/zetuslapetus
Summary: Beth, an agent in the FBI's narcotics division, goes undercover to pull another agent out. She's tasked with an almost impossible mission - bring Rio in, end the op, and don't blow it.
Relationships: Beth Boland/Rio
Comments: 54
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First, this is 100% inspired by fortunehasgivenup's _Why be a servant to the law, when you can be its master?_ \- a must-read, if you haven't already. Second, I have 84 other things I should be finishing - I know, but what's that saying strike while the iron's hot or something ?? whatever, I hope you enjoy as much as I've enjoyed writing this and holla to fortunehasgivenup for the inspo.

“Have you met him before?”

Turner's voice pulls her out of her dazed day-dream. Beth blinks, finally looking away from the photograph, and nods.

“Once, a few years back, he helped us wrap up a narcotics bust in Santa Monica.” 

Beth recalls that day, her first op with the narcotics division, set against the beautiful Santa Monica harbor that’d finally ended an eighteen-month operation with over a dozen arrests and a billion dollars worth of seized drugs. 

It was Beth’s first true peek into narcotics; she still remembers the first time she’d put the bulletproof vest on, the weight of it on her body and in her mind. She remembers the first echo of bullets that day and the screaming. The rush of adrenaline that’d pushed her forwards through the worst of it.

He was young when she’d met him, very briefly and in a van just hours before all hell had broken loose. She remembers his smile, the way he’d reached out for her hand when they’d been introduced, the way it almost made her blush. 

The man in the photos Turner had laid out in front of her was a different person, all hard edges, and dark eyes. A large tattoo of a bird sits visibly across his neck that definitely wasn’t there a few years ago.

“How long has he been under?” 

Turner's jaw ticks, so softly that she almost misses it. The taller man briefly glances over his shoulders at his partner, Stan, before he speaks.

“Sixteen months,” Turner says quietly.

Beth feels her jaw unhinge and drop.

“How?” Beth splutters, physically reeling in her chair. “Undercover operations may be authorized pursuant to subsection 3.1.5 for up to six months and continued upon renewal for an additional six-month period, for a total of no more than one year,” she blurts out the handbook guidance verbatim. 

Stan exhales, kicks off the wall, and steps up to where Turner’s seated. 

“We lost contact with him three months ago,” Stan adds with another soft breath. “At that point, we were looking for a body.”

Beth shakes her head inaudibly, confusion painted across her features.

“He made contact a week ago.”

“How do you know it’s him?”

“We know,” Stan nods without clarifying.

It's quiet again, an understanding of how deeply fucked they are settles over the office. Someone must have taken a huge risk to extend his cover that long, they must have been close to whatever they were after. 

“Who are you monitoring?” 

“Gretchen Zorada,” Turner says.

Beth pauses, running the name through all of her major cases, and after a moment shakes her head again. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Stan nods and Turner clarifies.

“It wouldn’t, she’s not in the narco business.”

“So, what am I doing here, guys?” Beth frowns. 

They’d pulled her off of an active assignment for this, flown her back to D.C. on a six hours notice. 

“We need you to go in and bring him home.”

Beth blinks.

“Pull him out yourselves, what’s stopping you?” 

Turner exhales, growing annoyed.  “We can’t crash a sixteen-month op - “

“You can,” she snaps, “You just don’t want to.”

“Beth,” Stan says and raises a hand to Turner, pausing what was no doubt about to be an educational rant. “He doesn’t want to be pulled out, we think he has something, and he just needs help.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“The way we communicate with him,” he says and pulls out a marked up newspaper but before he can show her Turner’s snatched it out of his hand.

“Absolutely not,” Turner hisses, “You know the protocol.”

Stan doesn’t argue with him, sharing means and modes of classified communication amongst multiple operatives only puts everyone else at risk.

“He has something, we’re sure, that’s the only reason we’re not blowing it wide open,” Stan says. 

“It’s not narcotics,” Beth adds quietly with a nod, prompting the men for more information. 

Turner grunts again, unhappy about sharing any more than he has to.

“How do you expect me to help when - “ Beth inhales to begin her own rant but Stan cuts her off, comfortably sliding into a role he’s far too familiar with any time his partner is in a room with another human being, referee. 

“It's a massive money-laundering scheme, we think they’re printing, and washing. Gretchen Zorada is the boss - we think, and Rio has done a decent enough job to earn her trust.”

Turner’s jaw ticks again and he glances at Stan who gives him a quick nod.

Beth rolls her eyes. 

Amateur hour. 

“Who exactly am I monitoring, Zorada, or Rio?” Beth snaps.

Turner’s brow arches and Stan doesn’t respond.

“You lose contact for three months, now you want to send me in and you expect him to trust me? You expect me to, what - “ Beth trails off with a shrug. “Report back whether he’s been flipped?”

“He hasn’t flipped,” Stan snaps.

“We don’t know that, we don’t know anything,” Turner adds. 

“He’s right Beth, we need intel, first and foremost.”

Beth exhales, surrendering, and drops back into her seat. 

“I need to know what you know before I go in,” Beth demands. “I’m not going into this blind.”

“We wouldn’t expect you to,” Stan nods. “We have a cover ready.” 

“We were going with sister, but,” Turner trails of and waves his hand around Beth's face, “I don’t think Gretchen is blind.”

Stan smacks him in the shoulder before he turns to Beth again. 

“Thank you, Beth,” Stan nods and smacks Turner again.

Turner nods and clears his throat as if the words pain him. “Yes, Beth, thank you.”

Three days later she’s on a train to Detroit, a few weeks worth of clothing packed in a duffel between her legs, the ID in her wallet burning through her pocket.

She slips the wallet out, thumbs the ID, and repeats the information in her head. 

_ Elizabeth Bennet.  _

She rolls her eyes at the slip-up and hopes Gretchen is illiterate. 

It’s a quarter after five when she arrives and steps out onto the platform, duffle bag heavy in her grip. She swallows the lump in her throat and follows the crowd of passengers as they head for the exit. 

She keeps her eyes level and scans the horizon for a familiar face.

Taking deep breaths, she settles the butterflies in her belly only to finally spot him. 

He’s tall, eyes so hard that it pulls a shiver out of her. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even acknowledge that he knows her until he’s close enough. 

She catches herself with a hand halfway up in a wave and slips her fingers through her hair, instead.

_Jesus_.

She briefly wonders if he remembers her. It was over five years ago they'd met and she probably looks - the thought trails off as she looks down at her travel attire, leggings, and a sweater. 

Turner and Stan had communicated with him one last time before she’d left and he’d confirmed her. 

He’d remembered her, right?

Before she can dwell further on her attire or the way her body has probably changed from years ago; he’s there, in her bubble, touching her.

He slides a hand across her neck, tilts her chin up, and then he’s kissing her. 

It’s rough and wet, loaded. He kisses like he’s angry and it’s the last thing she’d expected from him that it pulls the breath out of her lungs. She exhales into him, kisses back, finally and then he’s gone.

“I have a tail,” he mumbles against her lips, quiet. 

Her eyes tear open at that, blood running cold as she snaps back to the moment. 

Her body relaxes, moving out of its own accord as she slips deeper into the present moment. She drops the duffel to the floor and arches to her toes. Her arms find their way around his neck and she buries her head into the crook where his shoulder perfectly meets his neck.

Anyone watching from afar would see nothing more but a couple reuniting, greeting one another with their bodies.

“Where?” She whispers against his jacket. 

He slides an arm around her middle, palm hot and solid against her lower back, burning through the thin leggings.

He pulls her tight against him, lifting her off the ground for a moment to spin them around and face her in a different direction.

“Straight ahead,” he mouths at her ear and pulls away.

When she lifts her head out of his neck she lefts her eyes pop up for a moment, and that’s all she needs to spot the tail. A burly man, alone and blatantly staring anywhere but at them. She laughs a little too loudly to catch the man's attention because he can’t control his reaction to the stimulus, he isn't trained. 

She pulls away to look at Rio again and touches his face.

There are dark circles around his eyes, he looks worn.

“Long time no see,” she says with a soft smile and he nods, eyes still focused on her mouth. “You don’t write, you don’t call.” 

“Been busy, darling,” he says quietly and wraps another arm around her. They’re still standing in the middle of the recently arrived crowd of passengers, wrapped up in each other.

She exhales roughly, feels her cheeks heat unexpectedly at their proximity. The man she’d met years ago was all smiles and jokes; this man was quiet and dark, not at all what she was expecting. He was warm but the dangerous kind, where you’d burn in moments, she thinks.

Her eyes drop to his neck, and she presses her thumb right beneath his Adam’s apple. 

“This is new,” she hums and fans her thumb up and down the column of his neck. “Is it real?”

He chuckles at the question and presses her harder against himself. 

“We gotta go,” he says without answering her. He bends down to pick up the duffle then slides his other arm around her shoulder. 

When they start walking towards the exit, he pulls her in, buries his head against her neck, and whispers.

“Watch if he’s following.” 

She hums, wraps her arms around his middle, and shifts her chin against his shoulder just enough to see the burly man out of the corner of her eye, watching and following.

“Yup,” she whispers.

They walk to the parking lot without another word, his arm still wrapped around her. When they’re finally inside the car, he starts the engine and waits, eyes trained on the rear-view mirror.

Beth stares in the side mirror, eyes focused on the man who’d followed them out as he wobbles to his own car, eyes still looking over to their vehicle with no finesse.

“Who is he?” Beth asks and looks to Rio.

“Mick.”

His jaw ticks as he puts the car in drive.

“How long have they been tailing you?” 

“A few months.”

“Is that why you went dark?” She says and watches for his reaction. He glances at the rearview mirror once, no doubt checking for Mick then he turns to her.

“Is that why you’re here, Elizabeth?” He says quietly, eyes boring into her own. His face is blank, unreadable. 

The butterflies in her belly have settled only to make room for a different kind of heat.

“I’m here because you called for help.”

“Yeah, you here to save me?” He jeers at her with a smirk on his face, but she doesn’t recoil. 

She nods. “Yeah.”

The smile slips off his face and he turns his gaze to the road. 

“And how are you gonna do that, Elizabeth?”

She exhales as the tension diffuses into something softer. 

“I’ll think of something,” she says matter of fact and glances at the side mirror, clocking Mick still on their tail and way too close. 

“How long they give you?” 

She thinks back to Stan and Turner and smiles. 

“Four weeks.”

Rio hums and nods. He signals a turn and Beth eyes Mick do the same behind them.

“You think you can do it in four?” Rio asks and finally turns to look at her again. When he swallows the tattoo ripples and she has to exhale through her mouth to get the air out. 

“I can do it in two,” she says for some reason, maybe it's the way he’s staring at her, the cocky grin, or the way his eyes keep falling to her lips.

He laughs quietly and licks his lips before his eyes snap up to the rearview mirror again. 

“Is that right?” 

“Bet on it,” she says and settles into the leather as he turns for the on-ramp and speeds up. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions are made.

They lose Mick somewhere on the highway, Beth’s not sure if the man gives up because Rio drives like a madman or if he just simply tires of the task. 

There’s a burrito place between the train station and home that Mick really likes, Rio tells her with a smirk. 

_ Home. _

Home is a sleek condominium building, modern and dark.

“Gretchen owns them,” Rio tells her when they park, no doubt an answer to what must be a gaping expression plastered across her face.

He turns the car off, unbuckles his seatbelt, and leans his head against the headrest. He exhales softly before he speaks again, and Beth’s stomach twists at the exhaustion ebbing from him. “She’s got me watching her brother, keeping him out of trouble. His name is Eddie.”

“You’re watching him or he’s watching you?”

Rio laughs and shakes his head. “Eddie doesn’t know anything, trust me, kid’s only worried about chasing tail.” 

He turns to face her, lets his soft eyes run across the sweater she’d decided on that morning.

“You know, he’d probably like you,” he muses, still smiling. 

“What about Gretchen?” 

Rio chuckles, and when he smiles the soft lines around his eyes crease. 

“I don’t think you’re her type, Elizabeth.”

“Are you?” She presses, humorlessly. 

Rio smiles again, with his teeth, this time. He leans into the seat and shuffles his shoulders closer to her.

“Why, you jealous?”

She’s curious, probably more than she should be. Nothing Turner and Stan debriefed her on explained how Rio’d worked his way into Gretchen’s inner circle so quickly. 

“Did you sleep with her?” 

His response is instantaneous like he’d been waiting for her to drop that question all this time.

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

Beth pauses and bites her tongue. She wants to push him, ask him how he did it, she wants to know everything. 

“What, she’s not your type?” It’s a joke, but her tone is all wrong. 

Rio laughs, and she’s not sure if he’s laughing at her joke or at her.

He reaches for the door handle and pulls it open, effectively ending their conversation. 

Beth follows, takes a few deep breaths of crisp Michigan air until they’re inside. 

Rio lets them into a modern apartment with floor to ceiling windows, stocked with high-end appliances Beth could only dream about affording on her salary. Rio points to a pair of sneakers by the door as soon as they enter, brings a finger to his lips, and makes a soft shushing noise. 

Eddie must be home.

“Yo?” Rio calls out into the hall and a few seconds later Beth hears an echoed response from the back of the apartment.

Moments later a lanky boy emerges from the hall, with baby blue eyes, and fluffy hair.

When he spots Beth his mouth drops open but no greeting comes out. 

Beth smiles at him and reaches her hand out. When Eddie makes no move Rio smacks him in the shoulder and he staggers forwards to shake her hand. 

“I’m Beth,” she says with a soft laugh, genuinely amused. Maybe she holds his grip a little longer than she should. 

He nods.

“Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you,” she giggles. 

Eddie clears his throat and looks to Rio who’s eyeing them both, then he shoves a hand into his pocket and turns for the kitchen. 

“You want a drink?” Eddie asks over his shoulder, eyes focused only on Beth.

Rio gives her a look, arches a brow at her in silent warning. She ignores him.

“Yes, please,” she says to Eddie in her sweetest voice.

“You wanna change?” Rio asks loud enough for Eddie to hear and wraps his fingers around her wrist. He’s giving her an out - a signal. He tugs on her wrist but she pulls her hand out of his grasp with ease, too curious about Eddie to leave it at a hello. 

Eddie’s there, with a beer and a smile. He hasn’t looked at Rio again.

Beth takes the beer and blinks at him before she takes a swig. 

“It was nice to meet you,” she says to Eddie with a tilt of her head. 

“You too,” Eddie nods and wipes at his mouth. He finally turns to Rio. “You want a drink, man?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Rio squeezes his shoulder in a friendly, almost brotherly way. 

“Can you get my bag?” Beth whispers to Rio and turns for the hallway. She has no idea where she’s going, she realizes, so she turns back to wait for Rio and winks at Eddie.

“Layin’ it on a little thick, aren’t you?” Rio mumbles and nods to a doorway for her to enter.

“Why, you jealous?” She echoes his earlier comment and steps into his room.

It’s a decent-sized room with a king-sized bed and way too neat. The sheets are tucked in a way that makes her wonder whether he was ever in the army. A blatant tell that she files in the back of her mind to tell him later.

She leaves her beer on the dresser and plops down on his bed. 

_ Their _ bed, she realizes. 

“Does Eddie live here?” 

Rio nods and kicks the door closed. He drops her duffle by the bed and turns his ear to the door. 

Beth toes one shoe off, then the other. When she flexes her toes they crack deliciously. 

Rio steps from the door but doesn’t speak. He slips his jacket off, eyes still trained on the door. 

They’re quiet for a moment as he undresses. She scoots further on the bed they’ll share for however long and leans back, watching him. 

He’s still watching the door, and she can’t help but stare at the definition of his jaw, covered by the thinnest shadow of facial hair. High cheekbones lead to long lashes, a straight nose, and a tiny nose stud.

How peculiar. 

She opens her mouth to speak, but something outside creaks once, then again. A shadow passes by the door and Rio lifts his finger to his lips again.

Eddie. 

Beth sits up, crosses her legs on the bed, and stares at the space between the bottom of the door and the hardwood floors. After a few moments, the shadow moves underneath the door again.

That little pervert.

Rio sits on the other side of the bed and slips his shoes off. 

It’s too quiet and Eddie’s either spying because he’s curious or suspicious; either way, the silence is deafening. 

Beth takes a deep breath, mind already made up and moans. 

The noise startles both Rio and Eddie. 

Rio’s head snaps in her direction so quickly she thinks she hears the bones in his neck crack at the exertion, and Eddie stumbles outside the door causing the floorboards to creak more loudly than before.

She bites her lips so she doesn’t laugh and takes another breath. She moans again, louder this time and Rio’s eyes widen. 

His hand comes up to cover her mouth but she catches it before he can touch her.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hisses.

“I’m covering your ass,” she whispers back, and then she whimpers again, in his face. His eyes drop to her parted mouth as she hisses out a  _ yes.  _

_ “ _ And what am I doing in this scenario?” He whispers.

She shoots him a disappointed look. “You don’t know how to use your imagination?”

The floor outside the door creaks again. 

“Nah, I think I’ma need you to walk me through it.”

She rolls her eyes and shuffles to the edge of the bed. Her legs plop to the floor and she bounces on the bed once, then again.

“You bring a girl back - a girl you haven't seen in how long - and we’re sitting in here doing what exactly?”

He smirks at her and nods in faux agreement. She huffs and bounces on the bed again.

There are no more shadows or movement outside the door.

“Eddie knows exactly what it sounds like when I have a girl in here,” Rio whispers and he must have gotten closer because she can see the little stud in his nose has a tiny diamond top. “So you gotta try a little harder, Elizabeth.”

It isn’t unheard of for an agent to have a romantic relationship while undercover, and he’d been under for far too long but the idea that he’d had a girl in this room, on this very bed, trips her up and she stumbles for a moment.

She takes a deep breath, swallows the nerves in her belly, and pulls the sweater off in one quick swoop. She drops it by the bed and stands.

He doesn’t say anything but it startles him enough for his eyes to drop to her cleavage. His jaw locks. 

She slips her fingers into her leggings and pushes them down her legs until she’s only in a pair of panties and a bra that definitely doesn’t match. 

“What are you doing, Elizabeth?”

His tone is even but his nose flares as his eyes fall to her belly and lower. 

She steps across the room, grabs a towel, and wraps it around herself.

“I’m working,” she says and slips one bra strap down and out of the way, then the other. “You should go shower while I chat with your friend.”

“Elizabeth,” he stands and steps in front of her, blocking the door. “Don’t underestimate him - “

“Don’t underestimate me,” she snaps. She clenches the towel under her arm and pushes against his chest. “Let me do my job,” she steps around him and pauses before she opens the door. “Give me fifteen before you barge in, please.”

She finds Eddie in the kitchen scrolling on his phone, still nursing his beer.

“Hi,” she says and he startles, eyes wide and so blue when they snap up to her. “Sorry,” she laughs at his reaction and steps up to the island where he’s seated. “Water?” She asks.

He nods to the fridge to his right. He lets his shoulders relax and his eyes dip across her collarbones and to her cleavage. She lets him. 

Grabbing a bottle out of the fridge she lets the heavy door shut and turns her attention back to him.

“So how do you know Rio?” She twists the cap of the bottle and takes a small sip.

“He works for my sister,” Eddie says after a moment, eyes focused on her mouth as she takes another sip. “You?”

They’d worked through the basics of their background with Turner and Stan and she recalls the story.

“College.”

Eddie shakes his head, confused.

Beth laughs, half at Eddie, half at the story.

“Rio used to sell my sorority - “ she pauses for effect with a small smile on her face before she continues, “Party favors,” she whispers. 

Eddie laughs and nods, at ease with the story she’s woven for him.

“Sorority girl, huh?” 

She tosses her hair over her shoulder and gives him another wink.

“So you both work for your sister?”

Eddie’s smile falters and he takes another swig of his beer.

“Nah, I don’t work for her, didn’t work out.”

“No?” Beth prompts and slides onto a stool. The towel splits far enough up her thigh to give Eddie an eyeful. “It’s hard to work for family, trust me, I know,” she says softly with an exhale and takes another sip of her water. “Always expecting so much and then when it doesn't work out,” she trails off. 

Eddie nods and leans forwards on the counter, beer abandoned. 

“I write music,” he says excitedly and Beth groans internally. 

Of course, he does.

“I wanna make music but Gretch’ doesn’t get it, she wants me to push paper like her and that ain’t me.”

“What does she do?”

Eddie pauses, and for a brief moment his eyes snap up to the hallway over Beth’s shoulder, to where Rio still is. He leans back on the stool and his jaw ticks, pondering how much to share with her.

“She owns a few bars in town,” he finally says.

“Is she your older sister?” Beth asks with a smile and Eddie nods.

She hears Rio shuffling in the hallway, he must be itching to join them.

“She’s just looking out for you, I know, I have a younger sister your age.” 

Eddie nods once but doesn’t agree or disagree. There’s a tension in his eyes when he talks about her that Beth wants to prod and explore but Rio barges in and the moment breaks.

Eddie looks up above her eye-line and nods at Rio. She feels him before she can turn around to greet him. He slides up her back, wraps both arms around her, and snatches her water. 

“Showers free,” he says and takes a drink from her bottle. 

Beth stifles the urge to elbow him in the ribs only because of Eddie’s staring. 

“Eddie was just telling me about his music,” she says, ignoring the grip on her hip.

“Oh yeah?” Rio hums above her head. “Did he tell you he was shit at it?”

“Fuck you man,” Eddie cracks up and tosses the cap of his beer at Rio. “You gonna come by the bar tonight? Everyone’s gonna be there, they can meet your girl.”

Eddie smiles at her but Beth shifts her body, still clutching the towel around herself, and looks up at Rio. His hair is damp, and he must have run it under the sink because she can still smell cologne sticking on his skin. Woodsy and warm and intoxicating. 

The angle gives her an unhindered view of his neck and that tattoo. She keeps his eye contact and tries not to stare at the way his Adam’s apple jumps when he swallows. He blinks softly, once, then again, like he’s thinking about Eddie's question. 

“I dunno that it’s Elizabeth’s scene,” Rio finally says, eyes lidded as he looks down at her.

Her mouth parts and she lets out a soft breath.

“To meet your friends?” She says sweetly, “I’ll make it my scene.” 

There’s a small smile on his face, the edge of his lip narrowly tugging up into the smallest smirk. 

“Cool,” Eddie says excitedly, completely obvious to the two people in front of him. The scrape of his beer against the kitchen counter breaks Beth out of her gaze. When she slides off the stool to stand Rio's even closer, the tattoo almost at eye level. 

“I need to shower,” she says with a push to his chest. “I’ll see you tonight,” she says to Eddie over her shoulder with a smile. 

Rio follows when she turns for the room, and the moment the door closes behind them he grabs her arm.

“Elizabeth- ”

She yanks her arm out of his grasp, turns on her heel, and faces him. 

“Are you protecting him?” 

His brow furrows in confusion. “Who, Eddie?”

“He knows more than you think,” she hisses.

Rio rolls his eyes.

“You got all that from a ten-minute conversation?”

“Who are you protecting?”

His jaw ticks and he steps closer. His chest touches her own and he bends his head closer.

“Ask what you wanna ask, Elizabeth,” he whispers.

“You go quiet for three months, then you refuse to come out on your own, and now you’re hindering - “

“You think you’re gonna come in here guns blazing and slip out in two weeks with a confession?” He snaps. “With what - that dazzling personality?” He pauses, eyes dropping to her cleavage. “That body?”

“Fuck you, Rio.”

He laughs, dry and humorless.

“Yeah, isn’t that what you think I did, hm? You can report that back to Turner.”

It’s quiet then, the only noise in the room is their heavy breathing. She’s still clenching on to the stupid towel.

“She took her own father out of the equation, Elizabeth, then a brother. You think you can stroll in and charm her or Eddie,” he shakes his head. “He’s scared shitless of her, he’ll never give her up.”

“Then what’s your plan?” 

His jaw ticks and he looks like he did in the kitchen, like he’s debating internally whether he wants to share it with her. 

He shakes his head.

“I don’t trust Turner, and I don’t trust you,” he says quietly.

It stings. 

She wants to know more about Turner but she knows pushing him any further right now isn’t going to get her any answers. 

“Yeah, well I’m the only one you have, so you better learn quickly,” she says and turns for the shower. 


End file.
